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Cowboy Poetry and Western Verse
Calamity Jane
Jeff Richards
Some might say
that Calamity Jane came
by her tough character
by tough circumstance.
Jane lost her parents
when she was ten
and cared for her siblings
in Fort Bridger, Wyoming.
She worked as a cook, dishwasher,
dance-hall girl, ox-team driver,
then signed on to General Crook
as a scout to chase the Sioux.
She came by her name when the Sioux
cornered a cavalry troop, she cantered
to the rescue of a fallen officer.
The officer quipped,
that Jane is a calamity.
She holds a positive opinion
of what a lady can do.
In the photograph Calamity Jane
is dressed in pants,
her hair tucked under her cowboy hat.
She squints at the camera,
mouth set in defiance.
She is 23
ripe for romance,
a good looker
though rough around the edges.
I would feel safe in her arms.
I feel sorry for Calamity,
the way men acted in those days.
Once she was riding a stagecoach
that the Sioux harassed.
The driver took an arrow to the hip.
Calamity grabbed the ribbons
and lashed the horses
safely across the river
in good time to Wild Birch
while six male passengers
cowered in the coach.
I mean how would you feel
if you were one of those men
when the stagecoach
barreled into town, and
the townsfolk eyeballed you?
No wonder she had
problems with relationships.
Poor lady, she was dying in a bordello
in the dead of a South Dakota winter.
Wonder if those ladies of the night
kept her warm? Or was she thinking
of Wild Bill, the man she asked
to lie down with for eternity.
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